


why do I run back to you, like I don't mind if you fuck up my life?

by ziasann



Series: you, who shot a bullet through my demons [2]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Angst with a Happy Ending, Choose Hinata's boyfriend, Electronic Cigarettes, Future Fic, Getting Together, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, M/M, Minor Akaashi Keiji/Bokuto Koutarou, Overseas Researcher!Kuroo, Post-Canon Fix-It, Stand Alone, Substance Abuse, pining!Kuroo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-16
Updated: 2020-06-16
Packaged: 2021-03-04 04:28:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,836
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24747607
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ziasann/pseuds/ziasann
Summary: From: Hinata ShouyouKuroo-san! How are you? Kenma hasn’t talked to you too? I texted him last week but he didn’t reply. I was a bit worried but he posted a stream this morning, maybe he was too caught up in his games again.If Kenma wasn’t responding to Hinata and him because he was too engrossed in his video game, that would have been much more reassuring.His phone alarmed again for another incoming message.From: Hinata ShouyouDid something happen?To: Hinata ShouyouUh, you see, Kenma wore make-up in his latest stream.If only it was as simple as that.
Relationships: Kozume Kenma/Kuroo Tetsurou
Series: you, who shot a bullet through my demons [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1778824
Comments: 13
Kudos: 157





	why do I run back to you, like I don't mind if you fuck up my life?

**Author's Note:**

> Kuroo and Kenma has always been my OTP. You don't have to read the previous work in the series to understand! This is purely a stand alone KuroKen fic. 
> 
> The quotes are lyrics from songs of Blackbear and his collaborated artists. 
> 
> Enjoy!

* * *

_My heart, it burns, yes it burns, yes it burns_  
_We're oceans away_  
_I'll be asleep by the time you're awake_  
_By the time you're awake (wake)_

_- **NYLA -**_

* * *

Kuroo closed the door of his apartment. After hanging his coat in the stand, he shuddered. The Norwegian weather is still taking time to settle in his system. 

He strolled along the room, unpacking his bag of research papers. After studying years of advanced chemistry brought him to the other side of the world, nevertheless it yielded results. 

The data before him is evidence of that. Kuroo smirks, just more compiling of samples and discussions. Then, further recommendations and patent signing, their team could submit the thesis next-

His phone pinged a notification from Youtube. All too familiar, not that Kuroo subscribed to a lot of vloggers. He carded through the documents in his bed, regretting dumping all of his stuff there earlier. 

He unlocked his phone and tapped the notification right away. His screen initiated the Youtube application, showing Kodzuken’s recent stream. Kuroo’s smile softened, as he calculated the time difference. Kenma probably recorded himself at night, considering it is morning in Japan now. 

Kuroo swiped the files aside, promising to stack them later. He can only afford some leisure time now that they just finished collecting their data research. With the wide time differences and Kuroo’s constant traveling and researching, he wasn’t able to get in touch with his own country’s happenings.

Kenma was streaming the latest release from Riot Games, a first-person shooter with character selection. Valorant was the name, and according to the comments, it was gaining traction in the East. 

Hearing Kenma speak in the microphone, despite how minimal and deadpan his reactions were, released some of the tension in his body. Kuroo misses Tokyo, he misses playing volleyball, he misses eating the mackerel pie there, and above all, he misses Kenma. 

Their paths in the industry provided little to converge in the first place. When Kuroo left Japan, he thought they’d stay in constant communication. All those long-distance relationships (platonic, okay?) proved to be as taxing as the stories. They were both just one chat away, and yet, Kuroo was digging for discoveries in the laboratories, and Kenma was juggling being a CEO and a famous streamer at the same time.

Not that Kuroo was sad, _maybe just a bit_ , but still, he knew their friendship transcends all of that cliche lack of understanding, patience, and communication. 

Once Kuroo authored this project his group was working on, maybe he’d come back to Tokyo. Catch up with Kenma, try again, and pick up where they left off. Their bond was always special like that, no matter how many friends Kuroo made, it was always Kenma in the end. 

Kenma was wearing a yellow hoodie in his stream _, is it that season again in Asia?_ His hair was once again fully bleached, one to two-inch roots remaining in black. Kenma wore it in a side-ponytail and the little twitch in his eyebrows when an enemy attacked him from behind, just _too adorable_.

Wait.

Before giddiness consumed his being, Kuroo paused the video. He stared long and hard at Kenma’s features. His cheeks were less hollowed, and he had small eyebags, but that’s not right…

_“Come on, Kenma, my classmates taught me to wear one since it’s good for the skin!”_

_“Looks itchy to me, it will just distract me from my game.”_

Kuroo exited Youtube and flicked through his messaging apps. He secured the one where he kept his Japanese contacts. He texted Bokuto first, his closest buddy in Japan aside from Kenma. Not that he was expecting much, but it’s always easier to fall back into conversations with the pro-athlete even with all the fame. 

_To: Brokuto_

_Wazzup, greetings from Norway, this is your long-lost brother Kuroo. Perhaps you could entertain some questions?_

_From: Brokuto_

_KUROO!!!! U GHOST! Y R U IN NORWEGIAN NOW?_

Okay, well, that was _fast_. Kuroo checked the location where Bokuto was sending from when he figured it was from Japan, he concluded Bokuto woke up early for training. If Bokuto’s in Japan, it meant hardcore training to stay in shape. As he typed his reply, however, his screen popped up a video call. Specifically from Bokuto, not that surprised. He slid his thumb across the answer button. 

The video showed Bokuto in bed, topless, hair not spiked. The sun creeping on him from the curtains. 

“Hey, hey, HEY! KUROO! I MISS YOU!”

Trust Bokuto not to let the early calm vibe fool anybody. The mornings never tamed his bursting energy. He chuckled.

“Hey, Bokuto, any matches soon?” Kuroo began, nice and slow, he just needed to ask something. Not a big deal.

“Some practice matches, and training juniors, can you believe it?! Back then-”

There were some ruffling sounds from Bokuto’s place. Bokuto abruptly hushed, looking at his side. There’s a groan, _he’s with someone?_

“ _Oho_! Caught you in the act!” Kuroo hooted. Bokuto laughed, with a genuine smile on his face. He turned back to face the camera.

“Hehe, anyway, why did you call? It’s night there, right?” Bokuto diverted the topic. 

“Can’t I just say I miss you?” Kuroo winked, intending to mess with the person Bokuto slept with.

“Bro-”

“You won’t call Bokuto-san without a reason now, Kuroo-san.” A groggy voice in the background reprimanded. Nostalgic. “You two are not in high school anymore.”

“Is that-”

“Awwww, sorry bro, my baby here is Mr. Grumpy Pants in the morning.” Bokuto put his arm around the figure under the blanket, sooner than later, a raven-haired crawled from the covers. Topless as well. 

Akaashi Keiji rubbed his eyes and reached for the table beside Bokuto. Bokuto took the glasses and handed them to Akaashi. With a kiss on the forehead, because that’s how his high school friends will shock him for the rest of the night.

“Since when?” Kuroo counted the probability of Akaashi and Bokuto together years ago with a large percentage but confirming his hunch in his late-twenties was like an ice-cold bucket challenge in winter. 

“Long ago, actually, we’re just not really loud about it.” Bokuto explained, Akaashi finding his position in the camera.

“That’s big for someone as loud as you, bro.” Elation filled Kuroo, good news awaits him back at Tokyo so maybe his preconceptions were all theories-

“Kuroo-san, how are you?” Akaashi asked. Kuroo swore Akaashi’s glasses contributed to his detective aura. 

“Same old, same old, but the research’s going well!”

“That’s not why you called, right?” Akaashi was as sharp as ever. Kuroo prided himself in his meager expressions but maybe the exhaustion stench on him like the chemicals he was tinkering within the laboratory. Bokuto’s golden eyes were wonder and curious too.

“Has any of you...touched in with Kenma?” He gulped. It was cold in his location but there’s heat prickling in his neck.

“I thought you’re the one always in touch with him, bro. Did something happen?” Bokuto’s response was something Kuroo accounted for but still stung. 

“Well, time zones and that, we were both busy too, he’s the CEO of Bouncing Ball after all and there’s just so much work-”

“You could’ve sent him a message if you’re worried!” Bokuto exclaimed. Akaashi slapped his arm. Then, he met his gaze through the small screen.

“Hinata may have contact with him, Kenma’s still sponsoring him, last time I heard,” Akaashi suggested. Bokuto glanced at his boyfriend, having those eye-to-eye discourse couples do, and added.

“Yes, yes! If anyone’s talking with Kenma, it’s Shouyou!” Bokuto rambled. After saying thanks, exchanging some promises to see each other soon and jeerings to Bokuto’s not-so-secret relationship, the long-distance video call ended.

Kuroo stared at the blackness of his device. He thought of it too, chatting with Kenma. Their last conversation was two months ago, and there was a 48-hour gap in their replies. Kuroo doesn’t want to push it if there’s nothing to worry about. There’s nothing, right? He’s hitting up their old friends, in case something was wrong, if not, then Kuroo did not need to disturb Kenma. Kenma needs sleep he forfeited for his midnight recordings.

Kuroo typed his message to Hinata, again, not expecting much. It was straight to the point and concise. He laid his phone in the mattress, alarm set in the highest sound. He picked up the research on the bed, collecting them back in one envelope and keeping it on his desk.

As he was leveling the stacked papers atop his table, his phone pinged for the second time tonight.

He hoped he was overreacting, blame it on his homesickness and missing his childhood best friend, _or maybe more than that_ but when Kuroo read Hinata’s reply, his hand was shaking.

_From: Hinata Shouyou_

_Kuroo-san! How are you? Kenma hasn’t talked to you too? I texted him last week but he didn’t reply. I was a bit worried but he posted a stream this morning, maybe he was too caught up in his games again._

If Kenma wasn’t responding to Hinata and him because he was too engrossed in his video game, that would have been much more reassuring. 

What was the cause of his anxiety? Kuroo shuffled through his thought processes. His phone alarmed again for another incoming message.

_From: Hinata Shouyou_

_Did something happen?_

He received that question twice tonight, and Kuroo answered it as honestly as possible. 

_To: Hinata Shouyou_

_Uh, you see, Kenma wore make-up in his latest stream._

If only it was as simple as that.

* * *

_I'm feeling counterfeit, been rolling silence 'round my lips  
I need saving, I need saving, you won't save me ever again _

_- **Tongue Tied** \- _

* * *

Kuroo supposed he was more cut-out for emergency cases. No thoughts, head empty as he swiped his credit card for the nearest flight to Tokyo and filed for a leave of absence. He packed his important documents and a few clothes. Maybe he and Hinata were only overthinking, he listed off the excuses he’d use once he barged in Kenma’s house and saw him fine and dandy.

Kenma will tease him nonstop, “You just want to escape from your work, Kuro.”

Kuroo wished that'd dissipate the gnawing worry in his gut. Scientific research had proven intuition as reliable, according to BBC’s Sherlock, as it was “data processed too fast for the conscious mind to comprehend.” 

The flight from Norway to Narita Airport was 15 hours, not sure if the two-hour stop was also included. He wanted to practice his patience. Yet Shrimp’s mail was the last thing he contemplated before the pilot announced, in a Norwegian-heavy English, their expected time of arrival. 

A day will pass between them before Kuroo can assure himself.

_maybe he was too caught up in his games again._

He dozed off in the window seat of the plane, imagining Kenma’s reaction to his surprise visit. Should his worry ever be for naught, they’d spend his emergency vacation wisely, right?

Before the flight stewards announced their stop in a mid-way country, Kuroo dreamt he was at Kenma’s room again. A memory when they were young and the ball in their arms were leaving bruises after unsolicited practices. 

Their sleepovers mostly went like this: they eat dinner with Kenma’s parents and play the console for a while. Or if Kenma was in the mood, watch volleyball matches and observe. Kenma slept early, which Kuroo assumed was strange at first. Then, Kuroo woke up to the sound of the television starting up at two AM and grinned, he knew Kenma’s early sleeping habit was a farce.

It was one of those sleepovers again where Kuroo heard buttons smashed and a muted background music. He inched over the edge of the bed and watched Kenma whose eyes were dragged down by what Kenma referred to as “trophies of finishing a good game.” 

“Did I wake you?” Kenma murmured, slaying another enemy.

“You know I’m a light sleeper.” Kuroo yawned. “Hey, Kenma?”

“Hmmm?” The buttons were pressed even harder than before. The enemy before Kenma’s avatar launching an attack.

“Why do you play so much?”

“Mom doesn’t like me staying up all night to play, so I wake up early instead.” Kenma monotonously said. His character evaded a strike, Kenma’s body moving to the side in tandem with his player. _Cute._

“I know that already, I meant, why do you like playing so much?” Kuroo emphasized. Kenma’s fingers grind for another button smash series, his character exploding sparks and heavy damage to the enemy. 

The television screen displayed VICTORY in big red signs. The winning theme song plays in minimized volume so his parents won’t hear from the other room. Kenma swiveled his head, looking at him with a face lighted by the TV, a smile too endearing for Kuroo to absorb. 

“It’s fun.”

Kuroo drank the coffee in the vending machine of the airport. He sat by the waiting benches, backpack beside him. His dream was fading fast in his recollection, but the picture of Kenma telling him the truth. Kuroo compared the smile Kenma had when he was playing as a child, and the smile Kenma showed at his gaming streams.

_maybe he was too caught up in his games again._

“Or maybe the other way around, Shrimp.” He sighed. The airport’s comms blared at the ungodly hour. 

“Connecting flight NJ-332 to Narita Airport, please proceed to Terminal 3.”

_Just a few more hours, Kenma. Tell me everything I missed._

* * *

_What if we never met?_  
_Wondering in pointless conversations_  
_What if we never said "Hello" and "What's your name?"_

\- _**santa monica & la brea **__-_

* * *

As soon as he landed, Kuroo memorized Hinata’s instructions on how to get by Kenma’s current residence. The chibi professional athlete mentioned Kenma was in another house of his, not in the one they’re familiar with. His shoulders ache from the uncomfortable posture in the plane seats. 

The Japanese spring afternoon winded pleasant sensations as he breathed the air. He rode a taxi and noticed the new additions in the common streets, but the feeling of home was the same despite how many times Japan had evolved. 

He calibrated his phone’s systems back to Japan set-up. He also switched to his old sim card and dared a text.

_To: my fave setter-streamer_

_Hey._

He turned off the phone, he’d think about his reasoning once he received a reply from Kenma. He’d be shocked, seeing Kuroo’s Japanese contact available and in the signal. 

He let out a smirk, everything will be fine, Kuroo will deny Kenma’s accusations of him lazing on his job. He’d agree to Kenma’s allegations once his best friend admits he missed him too.

The taxi driver dropped him off to the addressed location. A suburban home reminiscing of their childhood street in Tokyo. The sun lowered, and the evening sky rose from its depths. The half-moon illuminating itself above the cerulean cloudless skies.

Kenma’s apartment was modern and slick. The right amount of essentiality and technology. He glanced at the house number and confirmed the area, even with the unnecessary length of Hinata’s guide, Kuroo managed to pluck the gist of it. 

The gate was hanging open, Kuroo grinned, and checked his phone. Kenma may not have replied to his sudden message, but he made sure Kuroo can come anytime. Just like the old times. 

He proceeded onto the lot, the front door was locked with a digital passcode. Kuroo grabbed the chance of boasting his intellect, pinning the numbers 0-1-0-5. 

_“You should set a password for your phone, Who knows someone might steal it.”_

_“It’s not like they have anything to steal.”_

_“Nudes?”_

_“Shut up.”_

_“Here, I put on our jersey numbers, so you won’t forget.”_

_“Sap.”_

_“I’m your sap.”_

When the mechanism beeped, affirming the legitimacy of the passcode, Kuroo swallowed the urge to shout. He doubts Kenma will look at his security cameras, especially if his game today was good.

There was a sweet smell inside the house. As Kuroo slipped off his shoes in the hallway, the odd fruity scent hit his nostrils. It was not unwelcoming, but Kuroo can’t disregard the nagging feeling of how the weird smell was synonymous with a previous lab experiment.

His footsteps were light, passing by the living room devoid of mess. Only for guests, maybe. He headed to the kitchen, guessing if Kenma already ate dinner. Kenma forgot to turn on the lights again, as Kuroo fumbled around the apartment with his phone’s flashlight on. He might soon suggest some motion-sensor lighting switches. 

As he grasped for the switch on the wall, _fucking finally_ , the scene in the kitchen and dining hall elicited a disappointing sigh from his lips. No matter how advanced Japan industrializes, Kenma remains the same.

Dishes piled up on the sink, and some plates stayed on the table. Never bothered to put it in the kitchen. Kuroo pulled the refrigerator open, squinting at the lack of healthy foods inside. Iced coffees in cans, bakery apple pies, and Red Bulls. 

“Tsk.” He closed the fridge, then furrowed his eyebrows at three cylindrical bottles at the top of it. Kuroo held one, determining it as PET-1 types of a container; he unscrewed the cap. 

The smell was stronger, pungent in his nose. These bottles were the source of it. A calming strawberry flavor…

“ _Juice?_ ” Kuroo stared at the bottle, almost demanding an explanation. 

Kuroo wasn’t a saint himself, he tried stuff back in college. The Westerners had various sorts of hedonistic mixtures Kuroo cannot resist when offered. He didn’t expect Kenma got into...he didn’t know Kenma considered it since he’s not much of a party person. And that, Kuroo never saw these last year when he visited for a short while.

He gripped the bottle, he took too long musing the surroundings. He stepped towards the hallways again, the end where a lone door emitted light from monitors. 

Kuroo was dumb, it was too quiet. No loud games in the background, too much stuff laying around. Merchandises, game boxes, and jackets. He pretended it was the typical habitat of his friend, but this clutter...not so Kenma.

He sprinted towards what Kuroo assumed was Kenma’s cave. 

Maybe Kuroo was delusional, to think Kenma will be sitting in his wheeled chair, then twist as he realized Kuroo was behind him. Kenma’s gold eyes will slit even to the size of a pinprick at the epiphany that Kuroo was here. After years of their separation…

The vial of e-juice plopped on the hardwood floor. 

Kuroo was greeted with a nauseating stench, trashy room, and whirring PCs. No Kenma in hindsight, not a strand of bleached hair, nor skeletal limbs. Kuroo covered his nose with the back of his hand. He tried ingesting the scattered evidence around, trying to make sense of Kenma’s lack of presence, Kenma’s strange make-up streams, and Kenma’s newfound de-stressors. 

The e-cigarette was on the floor, together with one of those bottles Kuroo discovered in the kitchen. He plucked the device, heavy in his palm as he remembered it was the similar model his American friends smoked. A pod displaying the 6 mg measurement of nicotine in the juice. 

Kuroo studied the catastrophe which was Kenma’s room. His gaming consoles and PC were left continuing their boot-ups. He placed the e-cig in the desk, about to focus on the monitor but the rainbow reflection of a CD glinted at him.

“No...Kenma…”

It was a PS4 game, the cover beside it. Yet as Kuroo cradled the CD in his fingers, the jagged edges almost scratched him. His eyes frantically swung along with his arm holding a flashlight, there were crushed games on the floor, on the desk, beside the monitors, under the bed (which Kuroo found to be the only clean place in Kenma’s room). 

His heart thudded as more questions overloaded in his brain, _who would fucking dare destroy Kenma’s games, where the hell is he, what is happening to him-_

Kuroo approached Kenma’s world-envied gaming set-up, there weren't any video games slotted in. The camera was off, the headphones and microphone were tucked neatly in the corner. There were a lip balm and concealer at the side, his suspicions right.

The three connected LED monitors were in white. Kuroo read the internet browser showing Kodzuken’s emails. There were so many numbers in his inboxes, but the message which clenched his stomach was the one isolated with another window.

An anonymous sender…

Kuroo wasted no second, speed-dialing Kenma’s number, it rang once, twice…

He scanned through the letter again, maybe his almost 20-hours of traveling fooled him. There’s no way... The words never shifted into another character however, the intent of the message clear as day. 

His call was answered, there was noise from the other side. Somewhere populated?

“Kenma, where are you?!” 

He would have greeted him another way but with his current predicament...witnessing all those dangerous stuff in Kenma’s home, Kuroo could never help it.

“Kuroo-san, I’m sorry I should have called you earlier-”

“Hinata?”

“You see, I’m at the hospital right now.”

His teeth were chattering, as he bore holes at the death threat sent to Kodzuken’s channel. 

“I was really worried after our chat, so I came by and checked. He was unconscious on the floor, I called 911-”

Red blinded his sight, his ears too hot, his breaths panting harshly to restrain himself. Whoever laid a finger on Kenma, _oho,_ whatever they did to him, they’d get the worst of his chemical combinations-

“He overdosed, Kuroo-san.”

* * *

_I'm not alone_  
_It's just me and your ghost_  
_And this cripplin' depression_  
_I thought I learned my lesson_

_- **me & ur ghost **-_

* * *

Kuroo doesn’t understand. 

His bachelor’s degree, masteral, and accomplishments swept under the rug as he cannot solve the problem beforehand. His legs weren’t as agile as his days in volleyball, and by the moment he was on the floor of Kenma’s hospital room, he was heaving.

Hinata Shouyou was leaning on the wall outside Kenma’s private quarters. His youthful energy cackling up in his cared-for body, but the maturity the years passed by gifted hung on his sharper cheekbones and jawline. 

Japan’s famous volleyball athlete was wearing a white shirt and denim pants, cap from an international team on his head. It may hide his renowned orange hair, but even this hospital cannot spare celebrities' privacy. Especially when there are two. There are double-takes from nurses and staff, whispering on who was the person behind that door.

He must have looked worse than he thought, as Hinata’s immediate expression was worry. 

“Are you okay, Kuroo-san? I’m really sorry I should have noticed it earlier.” Kuroo stared down, Shrimp shouldn’t apologize, he was just as guilty as charged for negligence.

“Never mind that, how is Kenma?” He hated how Kenma’s name was foreign in his tongue. 

“He woke up earlier, I told him you’re coming.” Hinata’s eyes shot everywhere but not his gaze. 

“I’m coming in,” He said, hand on the icy knob of the door. He was about to twist it when Hinata placed his hand on top of his, pleading with a regretful tone.

“He doesn’t want to see you, Kuroo-san. I’m sorry.”

All of a sudden, the adrenaline pumping him from his trip in Norway to Narita to Kenma’s house and here at the hospital flushed from his muscles. The scent of the laboratory, the Japan streets, the strawberry-flavored fog, and the disinfectant alcohol in this hall choked him altogether at once. _Too much, too much…_

The busy doctors who were strolling in the evening of the hospital. The gossiping nurse’s station, the medical equipment wheeled around the floor. Hinata’s dreadful face, he was saying something, but Kuroo can’t make the words out of the other’s mouth.

_What did I do wrong?_

_What happened to you and me? To us? To our friendship way back then?_

_You could’ve chatted me anytime, Kenma, any fucking time and I would have-_

His side cascaded on the cold cemented wall, Hinata gasped and grappled for his arm. The boy pulled him to the waiting area, rubbing soothing circles on his spine. The world around him muted from his auditory senses. No words, head full of queries.

_Why...did you do this to yourself?_

_Did anyone force you, pressure you? They should have let you do your own thing._

_Why didn’t you call me, Kenma?_

The last question throbbed on his head. His throat and neck prickling heat despite the coldness of the air-conditioner. Hinata went to buy them drinks in the nearest vending machine. 

His eyes stung hot as the only reason why Kenma didn’t call him dawned on his consciousness. The truth, full-force, and unrelenting.

Kenma shut him out.

* * *

_I'm in need of moderation_  
_Nah, I need a fucking break_  
_'Cause I just railed down enough lines tonight_  
_To spell your first and last name_

\- _**hell is where i dreamt of u and woke up alone**_ -

* * *

Kuroo wondered if he was late in the list of people who appreciated Hinata’s sunshine existence. He knew Kenma was among the top of the very long list, which consisted of volleyball athletes, coaches, and managers. 

His canned coffee was precipitating in his palms, he diverted his attention on the half-emptied drink. Hinata was tapping his rubber shoes on the floor without rhythm.

“You should go. Reporters could be here soon.” Kuroo advised. 

“Bokuto-san handles the attention very well.” Hinata sighed, “But are you sure you and Kenma will be alright?”

How thoughtful, not surprised Kenma warmed up to him.

“We’ll figure it out.” He assured, whether to himself or the chibi pro-athlete, he’s not definite. Maybe both. “Besides, someone’s waiting at you for home.”

Kuroo gestured to Hinata’s phone which notified around seven missed calls from his setter. 

“Thank you, Kuroo-san! Please take care of Kenma!” Hinata bowed, lowering his cap more and dashed to the emergency exit. The safest route for Hinata to be not ambushed with reporters, journalists, or any gossip magazines on the scoop. 

Kenma could also have some of that...considering his popularity and the death threat sent at him. Kuroo lifted his periphery, a man in black buttoned shirt standing in front of Kenma’s ward. His appearance was ordinary, Asian eyes and hair, Kenma would have labeled him an NPC.

Kuroo’s legs dragged him towards the guy, approximating in around his mid-30s. 

“Who are you?” Kuroo crossed his arms, it was around midnight in Japan, he wasn’t able to have a fitful rest since his flight, and Kenma didn't want to see him. Kuroo thought his irate actions towards anyone approaching his best friend should be forgiven, or maybe not.

“I should be asking who you are.” _Oho_ , NPC has guts, Kuroo gives him that.

“Kuroo Tetsurou, senior researcher at Norwegian University of Science and Technology.” He offered his hand for a shake, hoping not to pour his irritation at this NPC visiting Kenma at ungodly hours. _What does he even fucking need?_

NPC returned the handshake firm with an understanding smile, eyes twinkling. “Makoto Fujisaki, Kodzuken’s manager. Nice to meet the man in his wallet.”

Kuroo bit the inside of his cheek, he had a picture of Kenma’s high school graduation in his wallet too. At least, Kuroo didn’t need to define his importance in Kenma’s life to this manager. Wait, since when did Kenma even have a manager? 

“I came by recently, he hired one to take load off from his piling duties in stocks and Bouncing Ball.” Okay, that’s creepy, Kuroo didn’t even say it out loud.

“It’s past twelve,” Kuroo pointed out. The NPC, Makoto, bent to close their proximity like he was letting Kuroo in on a scandalous secret.

“We need to film a hiatus before the real issue gets big,” Makoto said. “I was talking with the directors of the hospital as soon as Kodzuken was admitted.”

Great, Shrimp forgot to mention that. Of course, Hinata contacted Kenma’s manager. Not that Kuroo can complain, they’re both pretty panicking during the time.

“They decided to keep it private and let us handle the announcement.” Makoto elaborated, a hand in his pocket. “I’m sure a phone camera will work, I bought concealer too-”

“He’s not even okay, and you want to film this in the middle of the night?” Kuroo sliced in, voice leveled not to create a ruckus. Bokuto will be proud of his control, if this was in high school, there’d be a brawl with a video on the internet five minutes later.

“Can’t you just post a written announcement on his social media?” Kuroo suggested, he can’t believe he’s doing a better job at prioritizing Kenma than his so-called manager.

“Kuroo-san, with all due respect, you _do_ know the real issue. Rumors have flown by now, in the morning it will get out of hand. The netizens need proof Kenma’s healthy and not high.”

Kuroo _does_ know. He hates it. He understood the objective of this guy, securing Kodzuken’s career. If Kenma’s persona online ever be blemished, his other connections might tread on dangerous waters too. His stock trading, CEO position...Kuroo knew they can’t throw all his hard work.

_Not high…_

“Bastard,” Kuroo growled, “You knew he’s drugging himself?”

“Since he’s distressed lately, I offered to slip some in his juices. Look, the vaping, not mine, okay? He was already doing it when I was hired.”

“ _Fuck_ you!” He spat out. His fist hurts from resisting to punch. If only his rationale wasn’t poking him, this douche will be on the floor, bleeding Nekoma red.

“Listen, Kuroo-san, we need to film the announcement to his fans as soon as possible.” Kuroo figured NPCs were always annoying, but never to this extent.

“I’m telling you again, Fujisaki-san, he’s not even okay.” _He wouldn’t even let me in._ “Do you really think he can film at this hour-”

“I’ll record it.” 

A tiny voice croaked from the door they were standing in front with. Both Kuroo and the NPC turned to the source. Kuroo’s shoulders eased at the sight, but his anxiety never faded. 

Kenma’s so near...without the make-up, his baby-faced cheeks were hollowed. The eyebags pouting angrily beneath those red-rimmed irises. Kuroo glanced at Kenma’s wrist, thin and tubed with dextrose. A crisp hospital gown draping Kenma’s skeletal figure.

He was so mad at Kenma as of this moment. He wanted to grab those shoulders, shake the toxins out of his systems until Kenma’s back to explain himself. There was no hint of surprise, shock, nor emotion at those features. Not an inch, nor a centimeter. 

_Dammit_. 

Kuroo hates himself too because his arms itch to embrace him. The battle between enveloping Kenma in an embrace or in a neverending seminar to take care of himself fought hard inside him.

He hated himself more when he realized his body wasn’t doing any of the two.

“Okay, then, it’s settled, Kodzuken, we’re filming inside the room for your viewers to have sympathy-” NPC won, Kuroo bit back the scream at his throat.

Kenma met his gaze head-on, still lifeless. His chapped lips moved and Kuroo didn’t almost catch the words out of it. The NPC was babbling nonsense about framing and lighting.

“You should rest, Kuro, your flight’s long.” 

_What was even that about?_ Was Kenma attempting to show he still cares for him? Nice try, but it was shit. 

His retort was at the end of his mouth when Kenma spoke again. 

“Please, don’t see me again.”

What was he supposed to say to that? Kuroo asked for insults, jabs, anything recycling back to their dynamic. He didn’t ask for Kenma’s pleas, he just joked and teased Kenma in saying _please_ when they were in high school. Kuroo certainly didn't like Kenma's begging now.

Before Kuroo could comprehend, Kenma and his NPC entered the room. The door closing in front of him. 

Like an official announcement of Kenma shutting Kuroo out of his life.

* * *

_Can't seem to fight the demons and it's sad to see_  
_The one you once held onto pack up and leave_

_- **the 1** -_

* * *

Ironically, he was staying at Hinata’s for the time being.

After Kenma explicitly declared his desire not to see him, Kuroo received a message from Shrimp. Details of an address around the prefecture, Kuroo couldn’t remember how it happened, shock, jetlag, and all. One way or another, Kuroo slept in Hinata’s complex.

Days and nights chucked in quickly, Kuroo’s body coping with the timezone. The schedule of the chibi pro-athlete provided a short span of interaction. Hinata explained his boyfriend lent the house in this city when he mentioned how worried he was for his friends. Since Kenma wasn’t accepting Kuroo’s texts and calls, Hinata planned it best to stay near until Kenma was discharged.

The hospital was a twenty-minute ride away from their location. Hinata brought Kenma food, clothes, and flowers, all with the courtesy of Kuroo’s money and Hinata’s discrepancy to keep the giver’s identity a secret. But with how Kuroo chose Kenma’s favorite dishes, oversized shirts, and preferred flower, Kuroo thought Kenma would have put two and two together. There are many alternatives to reaching out than online, and Kuroo will trudge any path. 

He desperately hoped Kenma would entertain him any second now. He doesn’t mind sleeping on the couch of the ward if that means he can escape Hinata’s conversations. Which, by the way, was growing prying as the days revolved by.

“Did you see his announcement, Kuroo-san?”

“Don’t wanna. They lied.” Kuroo grumbled underneath his blanket. Hinata preparing for morning exercises.

“Yeah, but they had no choice. You wouldn’t want Kenma’s issues to be known worldwide, right?”

Goddamn, Shrimp was as accurate as his spikes. He doesn’t want that, he just feels utter shit with everything spiraling on. 

Later that night, Hinata arrived with a take-out. Kuroo decided to regain control of tonight’s inquisitions. 

“Where’s your boyfriend anyway? Isn’t he mad you’re in an apartment with another man?” Kuroo split the chopsticks and ate the whole sushi in a bite.

“He’s called in to train junior setters in Tokyo, he might stay there for a week.” Hinata blushed across from him. “Besides, I told him you love someone already.”

Kuroo was relieved the sushi clipped in his utensils fell on the plate. 

“ _What?_ ”

“Kuroo-san, every volleyball team in high school who watched our match for the Nationals called it dibs with you two.” 

“ _Who_?”

“You and Kenma. Bokuto-san was playing our match videos when MSBY had a reunion and rewatched the match for fun. He pointed at you two and said, ‘ _Look, Kuroo and Kenma are doing the eye-fuck again’-_ ”

“That stupid owl!” Kuroo dipped another sushi in the sauce and swallowed it whole. Hinata widened his eyes at him. 

“Kuroo-san, that’s-”

His eyes teared up as his tongue sizzled, fuck Hinata’s obsession with too much wasabi, fuck Bokuto’s below the belt remarks and fuck his low-tolerance in spicy foods. Kuroo chugged the cold water Hinata pushed forward to him. Shrimp was giggling like a kid hearing his first funny joke. 

“You won’t deny it?” Hinata queried after exhaling from his bouts of laughter.

“There’s nothing to deny, chibi,” Kuroo answered. 

Might as well share his pent-up feelings with Kenma’s confidant. There’s nothing better to do since Kenma won’t welcome his once-in-a-lifetime visit. This was also the first dinner he had with the professional athlete, he should amuse the person who accommodated him.

“You see Shrimp. Kenma and I...it’s not really complicated.” Hinata’s brows quirked, in _humor me_ fashion. “Our friendship was comfortable. We grew up together, and we were each other’s comfort place. He brought me out of his shell and took care of me even getting into volleyball when he’s not really into it…”

“That’s cute.”

“Shut it. Anyway, somewhere along the lines...I fell in love.” Kuroo sighed, it’s heavy to admit it himself but an otherworldly sensation when he confesses it to another person. “I’m sure Kenma felt some of my affections exceeding the platonic spectrum.” 

“Japanese, Kuroo-san.” 

“Kenma felt it when I was in college attending his third-year graduation.” The memory was vivid. The stray cats, the breeze, their parents snapping a photo of them together. “I held his hand, told him my feelings will never change even in the future.”

“I’m sure there were a lot of other instances too when we were crying at the airport as I was heading to States, or that moment he asked me to come over when he was sad-”

“You were vague. You didn’t even say _I love you_.” Hinata interjected.

“Look, that’s the closest thing to a confession. Kenma’s smart, not dense and I don’t want things to change, that’s why I left the bait for him to take.” Kuroo gulped the lump in his throat.

“He never took the bait,” Hinata replied in Kuroo’s language. Jeez, way to score bulls-eye in his fears.

“Do you think we’d be in this position now if Kenma loved me back?” Kuroo dejected. “Maybe I’m too late, Hinata, I should have not danced around-”

“It’s not too late.” Hinata indignantly said. The box of sushi he brought long gone. _Would you look at that, the Shrimp let me get carried away with my story while eating the rest of the food._

“There’s a lifetime waiting for you two.” Hinata stood up and began cleaning up their take-outs. Before Hinata abandoned their dining table to throw their dishes on the sink, he announced.

“Kenma will be discharged tomorrow.” 

“Should I just leave him alone?” Kuroo asked, maybe Shrimp has an out-of-the-box idea he always presented in volleyball matches.

“You know the answer better than that, Kuroo-san.”

Trust Hinata to toss the ball back at him. The spiker was influenced by too many tricky setters around him.

* * *

_I ride around hittin' licks  
With this smoke in my lungs  
I swear that once upon a time  
I wasn't trainin' with thugs _

_- **Where Was U?** \- _

* * *

“Bokuto, I can’t do this.” 

Kuroo was reliving his pre-game jitters in his late 20s. All because he’s perched in front of Kenma’s house, feet gluing him to the pavement. Kuroo carefully timed it, Kenma’s scheduled to be discharged, the duration of his travel from the hospital back to his home, and an hour or two of rest. He was supposed to enter the residence, heart on his sleeve, and re-establish the bond Kenma rejected. 

Instead, his hands were clamming as he speed-dialed Bokuto. It’s evening, whatever intense training athletes do should have been over. Bokuto was updated with the events recently, with Kenma’s hiatus announcement and Hinata’s noisy mouth, Kuroo spent an hour hushing Bokuto’s _ARE YOU OKAY, BRO? YOU’RE IN JAPAN? WHY DIDN’T YOU STAY WITH US?_

“Bro, I’m surprised you were with Hinata all the time. I thought you’d stay at Kenma’s even when he’s at the hospital.” Bokuto said. If this was Kuroo in his college, maybe he was brave enough to do what Bokuto expected of him. Alas, they’re all getting old.

_There’s a lifetime waiting for you two._

“Bro, I was rejected, okay? I spent all the time moping inside the house of Hinata’s boyfriend.” Kuroo rolled his eyes as Bokuto chuckled through the speaker.

“You haven’t told Kenma you love him yet, how could you say he rejected you?” Bokuto whined. 

“Damn Hinata, that conversation was only last night!” Kuroo hissed, not too loud, no, Kenma might notice. He punched in the passcode in Kenma’s gate, the OK button waiting to be pressed.

“Besides,” Kuroo waved his hand animatedly, glad for the lack of homo sapiens in the suburb. “Kenma shut me out.”

“You don’t know that, you’re in front of his house, yes? Try the passcode.” Kuroo padded his finger over the button. “If Kenma truly shut you out, then the passcode you made shouldn’t work anymore.”

The security gadget of the gate beeped. Kuroo’s heart jumped, _what if Kenma hears?_ The entrance creaked slightly, at least, unlike Bokuto’s proclamations.

“You should have used that brain for your grades back in high school.” Kuroo exasperated, Bokuto was stupidly right in the wrong moments.

“Touche, I graduated.” Bokuto boasted, “Oh! Akaashi’s here, _welcome home to the most beautiful person-!_ ”

Kuroo had to distance the phone away from his ear, or else he might have his eardrum replaced.

“Kuroo,” Kuroo straightened on how Bokuto uttered his name seriously. “You can do it, okay? You’re one of the boldest people I know-”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“And Akaashi bids you luck. Now, stop calling me and enter the goddamn house. I want my _babe_ time with Akaashi and you’re wasting it.” Bokuto’s voice disappeared, and Kuroo was in the company of crickets by the streetlights. 

Kuroo exhaled. He wasted enough days and nights hiding under blankets and soliciting treats. He wants to see Kenma, to hold him, to ask what’s wrong, and to risk it all tonight.

As their paths in profession progress to expand their possibilities, the gap in their friendship widens. Kuroo won’t have another chance after this, if he’d ever had, it’s too far in the future. More things will change, and the Kuroo and Kenma of this year will dissipate. 

Kenma’s lazy, he won’t take the bait. Kuroo has to collect the fishing rod, catch a fish, and present it to Kenma without mistakes.

Either way, rejected or not, he’d lose Kenma. No, he’s already losing him. Kuroo at least wants to profess his love before Kenma snipped ties with him.

He walked inside Kenma’s complex, the pattern of the heartbeat reminiscing of his pre-volleyball matches. Sweat slicked at the collar of his shirt, and the passcode in Kenma’s main door remained the same. 

“Kenma?” Kuroo slipped off his shoes, still dark. No response. Maybe Kenma was sleeping? “I’m coming.”

If his voice ever wavered, despite his futile attempts at nonchalance, Kuroo wished Kenma wasn’t as accurate to his gestures as before.

Faint light and sounds emanated from the end of the hall. Kenma’s gaming station and bedroom. Goosebumps caressed his skin, as he remembered the images of Kenma’s thrashed games, e-juice bottles, and a menacing death threat.

Kuroo sniffed the air as he roamed the house, it was cloying and thick. The strawberry scent didn’t dissipate. Kuroo switched on the flashlight application of his phone and frightened at the sight of his deductions.

There are clouds of mist and fog clambering from Kenma’s room. Kuroo immediately sprinted towards the source. _He shouldn’t have been discharged so easily, no, I should have cleaned up the place before he went home but I’m so fucking stupid!_

The room was almost in zero visibility, the addictive fragrant wriggling into his nostrils. His head dizzied with the onslaught of mixed chemicals. Kuroo forced out a cough to lessen the invasion. His arm swam through the darkness as his other blocked his nose. The PCs continuously whirring electricity in the corner, the LED screens imparting light in this dimmed room.

Kuroo knocked some stuff in his feet as he waded through the dense area. His hand touched a window and slid it, freeing the fog smothering the entire place. His night periphery clears, and his mind registers the messy room.

Nothing much changed from the disarrayed scenario when he first arrived, except for Kenma who laid on the bed, staring at him. 

Or _through_ him.

His shoulders loosened some knots, at least Kenma’s not unconscious. Kuroo sauntered over Kenma’s position, slowly, like a cat. There wasn’t any reaction from Kenma. No need to rush, he treads with extra patience and care. Kenma just survived an accident, Kuroo must show his support. He can’t back out here, not when Kuroo’s this far without Kenma bidding him to leave.

“Kenma,” Kuroo repeated, sitting at the edge of his bed. The mattress dips with his weight, and the atmosphere is once again heavy. Not with smoke, but something volatile too. 

“ _Ah_...Kuro,” The bed framing creaked as Kenma crawled towards him. 

He was wearing one of those oversized shirts Kuroo had Hinata delivered. The dress enhanced those protruding collarbones and limbs, bleached hair astray in various sections. Kuroo dismissed his provocative imagination, as practiced in their youth.

Kenma was so near for him to hold, Kuroo extended his arms as Kenma slumped on him. _He’s so light..._ Kenma’s fingers clutched on his shirt and Kuroo’s damning all the chemists from history who formulated the process of his reaction at his predicament. 

Kenma raised his head, vivisecting Kuroo like his favorite research subject. _So close_ , Kenma’s irises were dilated as he inched closer. Alarms blared inside of him, warning him of _something wrong, wrong, wrong._

“Kuro,” Kenma tucked himself on the crook of his neck. “We don’t have volleyball practice tomorrow.”

Then soft lips were on his clavicle, throat, a flick of a wet tongue under his jaw and Kuroo groans. 

“Kenma..” 

_Holy shit. It’s happening._

The grip on his shirt never let go, and with an astonishing strength from those feeble hands, Kenma tugged to push his body on the bed. The pillows underneath his hair cushioning the fall.

He wanted this, he wanted this _so bad_ , and he dreamt of it yet his arms weren’t trailing to cradle Kenma. The feeling of weirdness and apprehension washing over his frozen movements.

“Kenma, stop.” Teeth bit on his ear, and Kuroo suppressed a delighted shudder. “Stop, please-”

The kiss was on his lips and Kuroo broke the spell they were under to.

_Kenma, you're high._

He pushed his best friend away from him, he almost ignored the wrongness of it all but Kuroo planted firmly.

Kenma was breathing hard on his face, cheeks flushed and all, Kuroo could smell the strawberries from those lips. He tasted heaven for a second, and it was hell to resist the temptation of plunging his tongue in. 

But Kuroo loves Kenma. He doesn’t want to do something they’d both regret later.

Confusion, hurt, and realization over what transpired flashes over Kenma’s expression. Good, Kuroo can still read him. His fingers stroked the dry hair and patted Kenma’s head.

“I’m so sorry,” Kuroo whispered.

Tears beaded on Kenma’s eyelids, and the famous streamer collapsed in Kuroo’s chest.

* * *

_When you give me those ocean eyes  
I'm scared  
I've never fallen from quite this high  
Falling into your ocean eyes (Yeah) _

_- **Ocean Eyes** \- _

* * *

“You should leave.”

Kuroo laid the ladle beside the stove, then switched the stove off. The eggs were sizzling nice and sunny. He grinned at his work, a newly cleaned house, and a delicious breakfast for him and Kenma.

He almost forgot Kenma's morning greeting. Kuroo turned and leaned back on the kitchen top, trying to be appealing in a cat apron he picked up when he was tidying the dining hall. Kenma stood on the doorframe, still in the same large shirt, unappalled by his goading smirk. His eyes zeroed in on the jutted collarbones and exposed neck, he chewed on his lip at the sexiness of it.

The tension in the atmosphere was bound to explode anyway, Kuroo will choose the moment to detonate it. 

“You kissed me last night and asked me to leave you in the morning? You wound me, Kenma.” Kuroo pouted, “Can’t believe I fell in the one-night stand category-”

“Leave.”

Kuroo slid the eggs at the ceramic plates, gathering the dishes in his palms, and walked towards the dining table. 

“You know I won’t,” Kuroo said as he settled the plates on the wooden table. A silent invitation to eat breakfast with him.

Kenma trotted and pulled a chair to sit across from him. That’s good. Kenma’s willing to listen, it’s what Kuroo only needed.

“Why?” 

“You damn know why!”

Sunlight pilfered through the fresh curtains, shining on Kenma’s hair like a halo of angels. The golden eyes Kuroo adored weren’t dazed but waking Kenma to the truth of his feelings -Kuroo had to exert more effort.

“This conversation is long overdue, we’ve been jumping around this relationship for God knows how long, Kenma.” Kuroo grappled the roots of his bed hair. 

When Kenma evaded his stare and chose silence as an answer, Kuroo groaned in frustration. How many years had Kuroo spent figuring Kenma’s feelings when his own was as clear as crystal?

“You can see it, right?” He asked, without letting the quietness consume their space. Kenma jolted and met his gaze. _Fucking finally. Be honest with me, tell me what you see._

“I see it and that’s why you should leave!” Kenma reiterated, tone escalating.

Kuroo didn’t have the energy to swallow the lump on his throat, his voice edging on mad desperation as he asked.

“Why?!” 

A second. 

“You shouldn’t have fallen in love with a mess like me!”

A minute. 

The implication of the outburst taking its time to settle between the two of them.

Kenma’s eyes enlarged, hands scrambling to cover his gasp. Tears shedding on his cheeks without stop. Kuroo leaped from his seat and encircled his arms around Kenma. He bent to knock his forehead on Kenma’s hair. The lump weighing heavier and heavier on his neck until Kuroo had no choice but to sob on Kenma’s beautiful, vibrant strands. 

The pain accumulated from years of repressed feelings erupting in ugly crying. Kenma grasped for the arms Kuroo embraced him with. He felt Kenma’s grip, tensed and shaking as he heard his childhood friend wept. The tears from Kenma scalding his skin hot, but Kuroo won’t let go. Not now, not ever.

He buried himself on Kenma’s hair, nuzzling his musings to him. “You pushed me away back then, when you were in high school and I was in college. So I didn’t push it…”

“But now, we’re living different lives, and all this time we’re not together…”

Kenma quivered more in his hug, but Kuroo embraced him tighter. He shook together with Kenma as their cries resembled more of lost children than two grown men in their twenties.

“I don’t want it anymore.”

With Kuroo and Kenma, it was never going to be the cliche _I love you_ confession. Kuroo understood as Kenma cried on his chest, whispering apologies of _I’m sorry I pushed you away, I’m sorry it took us so long_ like a mantra, that his feelings were reciprocated.

“I..I was scared, Kuro. One day you were my best friend, and the next, you were the most important person in this world.” Kenma sputtered more of his side of the story as coherent as he can in their situation. Kuroo didn’t need further elaborations, as the puzzle pieces snugged perfectly on his mind and heart. 

Kenma was just afraid of the emotions, he had to deflect it and they suffered. 

What a Kenma thing to do, denying their feelings both because he couldn’t understand the intensity of it.

* * *

_I wanna tell you everything I'm hiding_  
_I can't lie no more,_

\- **_Dirty Laundry_** _-_

* * *

“Can I borrow your PC or any laptop?” Kuroo scratched his head as they finished their meal. “I kinda have some...emails to answer.”

Kenma dunked their plates on the metal sink and hummed in acquiesce. Kuroo was hesitant to borrow a monitor but his email notifications on the phone were piling with queries. The research team understood his “emergency leave” but there were scientific processes and theories only Kuroo could elaborate. As much as their group respects personal errands with their co-workers, their thesis was at the crucial point of needing everything checked before input.

“You cleaned the house..” Kenma observed as he led him to the room. The sun was high through the fresh curtains, the house bright with life. 

“That, I did.” Kuroo grinned, Kenma nodded his head to his gaming station and Kuroo followed the command. He sat on the cushy spinning chair, pulling the lever under to level his height with Kenma’s three connected screens. 

Kenma sat cross-legged on his bed, while Kuroo adjusted to the computer. There were numerous icons of applications, and the wallpaper was aesthetic lettering of KODZUKEN in black and red colors. Unlike his laptop at the university, Kenma’s system software was adapted for gaming. He found the internet browser at the left monitor, almost syncing with the Adobe illustrators presumably for Kenma’s streaming edits. 

Kuroo heard a creaking noise and his eyes glanced over Kenma who was fidgeting. Kuroo continued to type in his email address, Kenma’s agitated but Kuroo will wait for him to share. The tabs at the browser no longer exposed Kenma’s mails, and threats. Kenma might have deleted it, or so Kuroo hoped. He didn’t touch Kenma’s PC while he was cleaning, that was just a breach of privacy.

“You saw it..” Kenma mumbled, his words almost overwhelmed by the circling fans on the CPU. 

Whether Kenma referred to the electronic cigarette and its juices mingled with more potent substances or the discarded cartridges and CDs of video games, both of which he disposed of earlier, Kuroo still answered. 

“Yeah.” His fingers composed a message clearing up investigations of his fellow researchers. Some did attach in their mails a _hope everything’s fine in Japan_ which Kuroo appreciated. 

“The industry was tiring. I can’t enjoy games as I used to.” Kenma stated, Kuroo paused on his writing. He remembered the NPC assistant who couldn’t protect Kenma from cyber threats. The one who pressured Kenma to lie and film, to relieve stress in an even more harmful way. 

“You should fire your NPC,” Kuroo suggested, keyboard clicking loud. 

“NPC?”

“That Makoto guy...he offered you shit,” He swiveled his chair to face his childhood friend (soon boyfriend), shy and cute as he tugged on the edge of his shirt. 

“No, he only... I was frustrated when I couldn’t enjoy playing anymore...that’s why..” Kenma stared at the floor of his room, the spot where Kuroo found the electronic cigarette before.

“Come here.” Kuroo patted on his thighs, Kenma looked at him in confusion. Then he proceeded to climb up his lap. 

The action only registered when the warmth of Kenma instilled in his body. He blushed, they were both practically glued to each other when they were in high school and college but their proximity now meant different. At least, not awkward. Kenma rested his face on his shoulder as if he belonged there. Familiarity and nostalgia surged in him, whenever Kenma’s sad, he’d hide on his arm like a caterpillar. 

His fingers brushed through Kenma’s golden strands and went back to composing his email. 

“You don’t have to explain. Just rest, take a vacation, I’ll be taking care of you.”

“Don’t you have work?” Kenma hauled himself from his cocoon which was Kuroo’s body. To think Kuroo was getting used to the natural scent and heat. Kuroo added a personal status update on his letter and hit send.

“Told them I’d be working from home now.” Kuroo leaned, the gaming chair bending on their joined weights.

“You shouldn’t-” Kenma peeked at his monitor, reading Kuroo’s latest sent mail. “Really, your excuse to escape work was ‘getting a boyfriend’?” 

“Tsk. No complaints. We wasted too much time running away, Kenma.” Kuro sneaked his arms to Kenma’s waist, propping him closer to him.

The pouty lips, the puffy cheeks, the strands of hair accentuated by the sunlight. Kuroo felt his heart sigh, reminiscent of the day he first fell in love with Kenma. Their memories ran on his mind, the simple moments of playing, the high school volleyball matches, the post-graduation problems, just the two of them _together_. Their sobbing fest at the airport, and everything in between their silences. Kuroo felt like he fell in love again, and it was like finding a home after being lost for ages. His chest was so full, his throat was lumping again, but not with dread nor sadness, only genuine happiness.

Kenma cradled his face, thumbs tracing over the tears on his cheeks, and leaned in to whisper.

“Our first kiss wasn’t supposed to be like that.” 

Kenma’s lips were on his, and this time, he melded together with him. He did not reject, instead, he held Kenma tighter on his arms. No alarms blared off in his head, all his brain could process was how _right_ everything seems compared from last night. Kuroo couldn’t taste a hint of strawberries, only faint flavors of the egg he cooked this morning.

“I love you,” Kuroo confesses, as they parted to gaze. 

“I love you too since the beginning.”

* * *

_Talk is overrated, let's just vibe_  
_And love is overrated in my mind_  
_Girl, talk is overrated, let's just vibe_

_- **talk is overrated** -_

* * *

Ironic, he did write he’d be working from _home_ now in his email. Kenma stayed perched on his lap as Kuroo received congratulatory responses from his junior researchers and solved their follow-up questions. 

Kenma flicked his hand away from the mouse, Kuroo losing control of the computer. Kenma being territorial again on his habitat, not that Kuroo complained since Kenma was seated comfortably on him.

Kenma clicked on a new tab and logged in his email. Kuroo furrowed his eyebrows in question. 

“I need to fire someone. And find an attorney too, my death threats increase as fast as my rank ups.” Kenma encoded his password. Kuroo nuzzled on Kenma’s neck, lips puckering small kisses.

“Mmm, your NPC offered you _shit_ ,” Kuroo repeated, “I could give you better drugs than that.”

“Shut up.” The tip of Kenma’s ears colored red.

“Your boyfriend is a smart chemist, I can formulate better substances in your palate.” The skin he was pecking grew hot. 

“Seriously, Kuro, I don’t want that anymore.” Kenma said, Kuroo stopped his ministrations and smiled.

“I know, just joking, I’ll help you. I can be your new drug.” He wiggled his eyebrows. Kenma contained a laugh and punched him playfully instead. The sound was such a blessing.

“I hate you,” Kenma muttered.

“No, you don’t.” Kuroo retorted.

“No, I do.”

“You don’t.”

“I d _ooooo_.” 

“You do _ooooooo_ n’t.” 

“I-”

“Say your next ‘I do’ at the wedding, okay?” Kuroo teased, to which Kenma flushed Nekoma red furiously.

“You’re rushing things-”  
  


Yeah, maybe he was, there were a lot of things to do. Kenma has to introduce him to his viewers soon as his most handsome scientist boyfriend. They have to make sure Kenma won’t regress into another relapse. Bokuto, Akaashi, and Hinata may be waiting for news from him too. He’d send a selfie hugging Kenma later and thank them. 

He mulled over Hinata’s promise of a lifetime waiting for the two of them, and Shrimp was right. At the same time, wrong. Kenma and Kuroo already had a lifetime together growing up, and they had a lifetime of growing old together to do many more things waiting for them.

He soon has to list Kozume Kenma in his thesis acknowledgments as his greatest inspiration. 

* * *

_And I'm still alive in you_  
_I'm still alive_  
_I'm still on fire for you_  
_It's burnin inside_  
  


_- **H** **otel Andrea** **-**_

* * *

**Author's Note:**

> CULTURE REFERENCES/NOTES:
> 
> 1\. Valorant is an FPS (first-person shooter) game released by Epic Games recently. I've been playing it and enjoying it with my friends. Comment below if you want to be friends and play, but I can't guarantee I'm great sksks  
> 2\. E-cigarettes. In my country, we call it vape but it's categorized as electronic cigarettes. It comes in various model like pods, or those big rectangle ones. It's popular and often used to quit smoking.  
> 3\. E-juice. It's like the flavor you put in the vape, and it has nicotine. You can choose different fruity flavors like strawberry menthol and the amount of nicotine like 3 mg, 6 mg, and even higher. I'm not really sure whether you can mix another substance in the e-juice but one time my friend tried a batchmate's vape and said that he was mixing 'good shit' in his vape, that's why he's really 'high' during classes.  
> 4\. NPC - Non-player Character in video games. They're boring and easily forgettable.  
> 5\. I'm not sure about Kuroo's research but he's currently focusing on chemical theories. The university he was working on was real.  
> 6\. Most of these are Google-researched, I apologize in advance for the inaccuracy.  
> 7\. Title is from the song Monsters by All Time Low ft. Blackbear
> 
> Extra:  
> \- I planned this fic for only 3k words, but look at the word count now  
> \- I couldn't choose between Kageyama or Atsumu as Hinata's boyfriend, so I just referenced him as a setter. 
> 
> Thank you for reading! Leave kudos and comments below if you like it!  
> Follow my twitter account [@ziasann](https://twitter.com/ziasann) for more HQ memes and shenanigans.  
> Subscribe to my tumblr account [ziasann](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/ziasann) for more HQ drabbles and stories.


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